-MOVIEVERSE-
Rating: PG. Some mild sexual innuendo, and a few mild swear words (no
"f" or "s" swear words) from Cyclops
Characters: Cyclops and Jean, a little of Logan and the Professor
Disclaimer: These characters and settings do not belong to me, they are
the property of Marvel Comics and 20th Century Fox. I have no
intention of selling my work and am making no profit from this, it is
strictly for fun. I mean no harm. Please do not sue, as I have nothing
to my name but a 12 year old car that won't pass emissions.

Summary: This is pretty much based on the book and movie, but since they
don't agree with each other, I kinda took a little of each and added
some of my own. I thought that Scott was shown as way too calm
considering Logan was making moves on his girl (although they show a
little more of his anger in the book, but still less than I thought he
would show), so I thought this was a little more accurate as to how I
thought he would actually react, and what Jean's reactions to his anger
would be.

Feedback: Please. This is my first X-Men fiction, and I would like to
know how I did. I may be contacted at: marinersrawesome@hotmail.com I
also would enjoy talking to anyone about X-Men in general, feel free to
email me at the same address.

Scott Summers was not having a good day.
He had been up late the night before trying to figure out what was wrong
with the damn fuel injector in the Durango and had been looking forward
to sleeping in a little, preferably cozying up to his fiancee, even
better, possibly she would consent to a little morning lovemaking. But
he certainly did not want to be awakened at 6 am by the professor's
voice in his head requesting his presence in the foyer of the school,
in, as the professor called it "full readiness mode". He
didn't mind "full readiness mode" but not at 6 in the morning
when he had only slept for about four hours. And besides, that term
basically entailed a mission of some type and required him to change
from his comfortable sleeping attire and light red sunglasses to the
form fitting black uniform and the visor which always made him feel
slightly claustrophobic. His attitude was not helped by the professor
describing their targets as a "young girl, terrified and
alone" and "an older man, aggressive and unpredictable."
He didn't care for terrified and hated unpredictable. Fortunately the
mission had gone well, and they had rescued Logan and Rogue from
Magneto's goon, Sabretooth.

But it seemed he had been right about
Logan. He had been back in the garage screwing around with the fuel
injector again when he heard Jean's fearful scream in his mind. He
located her in the med lab and charged there at top speed just in time
to see Logan bolt out the far door. Jean was leaning on the bed,
clutching at her throat and coughing, and it didn't take any special
mutant powers to see the red marks on her throat that were quickly
becoming bruises. Nor did he need to ask what had happened. He reached
for her, but she pushed him away. "I'm fine Scott." she
coughed, rubbing her throat gingerly. "The Professor wants to talk
to us. Tell him I'll be there in a minute, would you?" He didn't
want to leave her, but knew it was useless to argue with her. When she
had her mind set, no one, not even the man she loved, could change it.

He met Storm outside the door to the
office. {{Come in Scott.}} he heard in his
mind. Shaking his head slightly, he proceeded inside with the
white-haired mutant. Over the years, he had grown accustomed to Jean and
the Professor and their mind links with him, but it still seemed like a
slight invasion of privacy. Jean knew of his dislike for them, and
avoided them whenever she could, but the Professor still used them,
although less often than he had a few years ago, in respect to his
wishes. Even he had to admit that they were useful on missions, though.
Due to his disability, the Professor seldom accompanied them on
assignments, but would most often stay back at the mansion, linking the
X-Men together so they thought as one mind, saw through each other's
eyes, and fought as one. The link had saved their lives more times than
he cared to remember.

There he was. That bastard who had
attacked his fiancee. He fought to keep the dislike out of his face as
the professor introduced Logan to him, holding out his hand in what
seemed like an appropriate gesture of goodwill, then withdrawing it
quickly when Logan refused to shake. Jerk. I just saved your life, your
ungrateful asshole. The door opened again and Jean walked in, still
swallowing more frequently than she should have had to. God help me,
Scott thought, if he ever attacks her again...he could feel Jean's mind
inside his own and quickly shut out the hateful thoughts, apparently not
entirely as he saw Jean give him a reproachful look.

The bastard was staring at his woman
again. He blushed. His woman. She was not HIS woman, nor did he have any
desire for her to belong to him. An old saying kept dancing around in
his head "If you love someone set them free, if they come back to
you they are yours, if they don't, they never were." but somehow
couldn't quite bring himself to believe it. He didn't want to set her
free. He had wanted her for too long, and now that they had been
together, he couldn't imagine life without her. Sometimes when the
nightmares kept him awake at night, he would watch her sleep for hours
on end, her steady even breathing lulling him into a deep relaxation.

The Professor was speaking. "Give
me 48 hours to find out what Magneto wants with you Logan and I give you
my word I will do everything in my power to help you piece together what
you've lost...and what you're looking for."

Scott was furious. Forty-eight hours? He
didn't need 48 seconds to tell him that Logan was trouble. He sometimes
wondered if he had some slight telepathic abilities, as he could clearly
feel the mutual attraction between Logan and Jean. Mutual attraction.
That was what bothered him. He knew Jean was incredibly beautiful, and
graceful, and mysterious. The visor covered his eyes but didn't restrict
his sight. Most men were caught up in her beauty, but she never before
had returned any feelings but his own.

The look on Logan's face had changed
slightly. He had stopped gawking at the beautiful redhead and instead
was looking around at the room and out the window at the school grounds.
"What is this place?"

Scott ate dinner alone. Jean had
promised to join him but apparently had become caught up in her
"work". He could imagine what that "work" entailed.
No doubt something involving that damned Wolverine. If he hurt her....

He didn't have any evening classes that
night, so he returned to the Durango finally fixing the godforsaken fuel
injector. He slammed the hood down far harder than was necessary to
latch it, a loud boom echoing throughout the garage. He stroked the hood
of the Durango, lost in thought. What was the Professor thinking? He was
telepathic; he could sense Logan's hostility, his contempt for
authority. How could he possibly think he could be an asset to a team?
But that was what he said when he told Storm and Cyclops to bring him in
from the Canadian Rockies; that Logan had tremendous
"potential". Potential my ass, Scott thought. I have never met
anyone so less deserving of a chance. Why didn't we let Magneto have
him? Wouldn't be much of a loss. Suddenly he flushed, embarrassed. What
the hell was he thinking? He knew nothing about Logan's past. Maybe he
had had to fight to survive every minute of every day. That would tend
to make anyone aggressive. And how could he say that Logan didn't
deserve a chance? Had he been any more deserving? He was bitter,
sarcastic, disrespectful, and altogether unlikable when he first came to
the school. Everyone else deserved the same chance he had been given.

Those thoughts were still in his mind as
he returned to his bedroom. Jean wasn't there yet, which was strange. It
was past midnight, and she was one of those "early to bed, early to
rise" people. Was she still in the lab going over the results of
Logan's "further" tests? (Since the previous ones had been
interrupted by him attempting to throttle her.) He decided to find her.

He heard her voice down the hallway in
one of the spare rooms and then the slamming of the closet doors.
"All kinds of things. I also have some telepathic powers."

Scott fumed as he heard Logan's voice.
"You mean like the Professor's?"

"Nowhere near that powerful, but
he's teaching me to develop them."

Scott was almost next to the door, the
two of them still unaware of his presence. "I'm sure he is. So read
my mind." His voice was low, sexy, and it took all the self control
Scott had to not lunge through the door and attack Logan.

"I'd rather not."

"Why? Afraid you'd like it?"

"I doubt it." Scott saw her
pull away, but then an unreadable look crossed her face and she held her
hands up to each side of his face. Scott wanted to intervene. Actually
what he wanted to do was pull his visor out of his pocket, set it to
high, and blast Logan out the far wall. But the Professor had told him
that unless it was a dire emergency, you should never interrupt a
telepathic link. Something about scrambling the neurons or something. So
he didn't. But he did glare. And when Jean pulled away with a look of
pain on her face and Logan took her hand, that was too much. He started
into the room about the time Jean noticed him.

"Scott!" She pulled away,
rather guiltily, he thought. What else had they done? "Good night
Logan." she said, brushing past Scott on her way out of the room.
She tried to reach out with her mind to soothe his anger, but he was as
impenetrable as ever, shutting her out.

"You going to tell me to stay away
from your girl?" Logan asked with a sneer toward the younger man.
Scott took a deep breath. This man was not going to bait him, not
anymore.

"If I had to do that, she wouldn't
be my girl, would she?" Logan didn't respond to that, and suddenly
Scott found himself on the baiting end. "It must just burn you up
that a boy like me saved your life." He knew he was on the right
track. Logan was doing a slow burn. "You better be careful. I might
not be there next time." He reached to pull the door shut.
"And Logan...stay away from my girl." He tried to lower his
voice as much as he could and put a note of threat into it, but could
see that Logan was not afraid. He was not one of Scott's students who
could be chastised for getting into trouble with nothing more than a
cold stare and a "I'm very disappointed in you." Logan was
dangerous and Scott had no intention of letting his guard down around
him.

He was about ready to head back to the
garage when he heard the Professor asking his presence in the med lab.
God, I wish he wouldn't do that, Scott thought, rubbing his temples. His
mind links give me a headache. Why can't he just use a cell phone or
something?

Adamantium. His skeleton was adamantium.
Scott added it up in his mind. Enhanced senses, increased strength,
strong aggressive tendencies, rapid healing, and a nearly indestructible
skeleton. The perfect soldier.

"Who did this to him?"

Jean shook her head. "He doesn't
know. Nor does he remember anything about his life before it
happened."

The professor moved closer to the X-Ray.
Scott hadn't seen him angry often, but under the calm facade, he could
see disgust and hatred for whoever would use a mutant for their sick
experiments. "Experimentation on mutants. Not entirely unheard of,
but I've never seen anything like this."

"What do you think Magneto wants
with him?" Scott asked.

"I'm not entirely sure it's him
Magneto wants." He didn't explain his thoughts, but didn't really
need to. Jean had said that from what she'd heard about adamantium it
was nearly impossible to work with. As strong as Magneto's control over
many different kind of metals was, adamantium would be incredibly
valuable to him. He could make indestructible weapons, planes, vehicles,
hideouts, the list was endless. Surrounding himself with enough
adamantium could make him nearly invulnerable. Scott felt a sick feeling
in his stomach. He was a powerful enough adversary as it was. He didn't
want to think about how tough he would become with adamantium around
him.

Finally the meeting came to an end,
everyone heading off to bed, everyone but Scott that is. He was sure
Jean was getting ready for bed, but had no intention of joining her just
yet. He was tired and it was hard to keep up the mental barriers around
her when he was tired. And he was not ready for the questions from her.
So instead he returned to the garage.

His motorcycle gleamed in the dim light.
He missed riding her. How long had it been since him and Jean had gone
for a long ride in the mountains? He didn't know. Too long. Unwittingly
his mind flashed back to a time about a year ago. Spring break, most of
the students were off on trips of their own, and the professor had
talked him, nearly ordered him, into spending a day with Jean. The wind
in his hair, Jean with her arms around him, her chin on his shoulder,
reaching under his leather jacket, stroking his chest, nibbling on his
neck, her warm breath in his ear. The alpine meadow, talking and
laughing as they ate lunch, walking around the lake, making love in the
trees, the only sounds the birds and their passion.

He trembled at the memory of her touch
on that day, his gaze distant, longing. He didn't regret the time and
effort he had put into the school. Quite the opposite; he was honored
the professor thought enough of him to trust him in the leadership role
he held. And he gained a great deal of satisfaction out of helping
lonely, confused mutants reach their full potential and become
intelligent, productive members of society. But it was a full time job,
leaving little time for personal pursuits. He sometimes wondered what it
would be like to have a "normal" job. To come home in the
evening to a wife and kids, enjoy a meal and a night of playing Monopoly
or Pictionary, or spending an off day at the beach or the park. Or even
better, to spend a weekend with the woman he loved. John had told him
about a cabin on the beach that his parents frequented, and Scott longed
to someday take Jean there; to throw off the mantle of leadership for
just a few days. To not have to worry about anyone getting hurt or
killed on a mission because he made a bad decision. To have his most
important decision be if they wanted to walk along the beach or stay in
bed all day, talking, laughing, making love. He missed Jean terribly. He
wondered how he could miss someone who was always there, but he did.
When they were first together, they spent many hours of each day
together. Eating meals together, lesson plans, missions, or just
something as simple as falling asleep in each other's arms. But these
days, he ate alone more often than not, they taught dissimilar classes
and seldom went over lesson plans together, and didn't even seem to be
sleeping the same hours. She was almost always in bed before him, and he
couldn't be so cruel as to awaken her just so they could fall asleep
together. And when he awoke in the morning, she was usually gone,
teaching an early class. She would often leave a flower and an emotional
note, but it wasn't the same.

He ran his hand down the tank of the
bike, the feel of the silky smooth black paint soothing his troubled
mind. He shook himself out of his reverie. It wasn't going to happen. He
had too many responsibilities to just let them go for a weekend. Even
for Jean. Quickly he stripped off his sweater and reached for the can of
wax on the shelf. Taking care of the bike always made him feel better.
He was so involved in what he was doing he didn't hear Jean open the
door.

Jean watched him in confusion, thoughts
of Logan swimming in her head. She had returned to their room only to
find Scott not there. She knew she had angered him and assumed he would
be here. He was an exceptional mechanic and often retreated to the
garage to brood, finding comfort in what he knew well. She watched him
for several minutes. He was waxing the bike. She knew it didn't need the
wax, he had done it just a week before and hadn't ridden it since, so
she understood exactly how angry he was. Scott was not one for
"busy work". If he was doing something that didn't need to be
done, he was more than angry. He was hurt and scared.

"Scott?" He jumped and the can
went flying across the floor. She reached out telekinetically and
returned it to him. He muttered a thanks and returned to the bike.

The dark circles under his eyes told her
that he was lying but was too proud to admit that he didn't want to be
with her at the moment. She was hurt but understood why. If she had come
into a room and seen him holding the hand of another girl, she would be
somewhat irritated with him too.

For a moment she considered mindlinking
with him, but quickly dismissed the thought. He was irritated enough. No
reason to aggravate him further.

"Scott, what's wrong? Why are you
angry?"

He flung the can down and turned to
glare at her. "Stay out of my mind Jean!"

"I'm not in your mind Scott. I
wouldn't have to be a telepath to see your anger. Your bike doesn't need
another coat of wax. The only reason you're down here is because you're
angry and you don't trust yourself to stay under control." He had
turned away again, wiping the wax residue off the fuel tank, and she
reached out her hand, laying it softly on his shoulder. Either he was
too angry to feel her touch, or he was ignoring it, she wasn't sure
which, as he pulled away to wipe the other side of the tank.

"It's Logan, isn't it?"

He snorted. "Good thing you're
telepathic. You never would have figured it out otherwise. I keep my
dislike of him SOOOO well hidden." he said, his words dripping
sarcasm.

"You don't trust him."

"Of course I don't him. First thing
he does when he wakes up is try to kill you."

"He didn't squeeze that hard
Scott."

"Doesn't matter. The fact is the
first thing he did was become violent. How can you ever trust someone
that would behave like that? That isn't normal behavior."

"Neither is walking through walls,
reading people's minds, or shooting beams from someone's eyes. He's a
mutant Scott. 'Normal behavior' doesn't necessarily apply." She
tried to talk slowly, soothingly. She knew she could calm him down. But
she would have to be careful with what she said.

"I don't care. I don't trust him.
He's too violent. He attacks first and asks questions later. I talked to
Rogue about what happened in the bar. She said he fought like an animal.
Is that the kind of person you want around these children?" he
asked, sweeping his arms wide to indicate the school.

"That's not what this is about.
There are other mutants in this school that are far more dangerous than
Logan and you haven't complained about any of them. What about John? If
he wanted he could burn the whole school down in a matter of minutes. Or
Bobby? He could freeze everyone in even less time. Or even
Storm..."

"Don't be ridiculous. Storm knows
how to control her powers perfectly." he interrupted.

"I know that. But the point is, if
she wanted to do damage to the school, she could whip up a tornado and
flatten it in a few seconds. The potential for harm is there. But you
haven't complained about Bobby or John or Storm." She stopped. He
was absentmindedly tracing the stitching on the seat and said nothing,
but she could feel his anger beginning to abate. Oh well, she thought, I
guess now is as good a time as any to piss him off again.

"The only reason you're complaining
about Logan is because he's attracted to me and you're not confident
enough in my love for you."

He turned toward her in anger. "It
isn't that."

"Well then what?"

"I don't trust him. I've seen the
way he looks at you."

"So?"

"So you don't have to be a telepath
to see what he's thinking. He wants you."

"That's irrelevant."

Scott snorted. "How can it be
irrelevant?"

"Because I don't want him, not that
way."

"Then why were you holding hands?
Why did you read his mind?"

"I thought I might be able to help
him. He said he's had nightmares since he can remember. I thought maybe
I could help to soothe his mind. The hand holding thing, I don't know. I
didn't mean for that to happen. When I felt the pain in his mind, I
gasped. He saw that and pulled my hands away from his head so the link
would break." Scott said nothing. "He was trying to protect me
from seeing any more of the pain." She could see the anger in Scott
lift slightly at the plausibility of her explanation, but he was still
strung as tight as a drum.

"I don't trust him Jean. He's too
attracted to you."

"That's irrelevant too."

"Enough of that word!" he
flared again. "Why is everything irrelevant?"

"Do you trust me Scott? Do you
trust me to remain faithful to you?" she asked softly.

"Well, yes but..." She reached
out, laying two fingers across his lips to silence him.

"No 'yes but' Scott. If you trust
me, it doesn't matter if you trust him or not." She reached out,
taking his shoulders between her hands, squeezing gently. "You may
not like it if he makes advances to me, but as long as you trust me to
not act on them, you don't have anything to worry about. It takes two to
tango, remember?" The anger was finally abating, and she hoped the
last part she had to say didn't bring it back. But since they were being
honest she wanted to air out all the dirty laundry. "I won't lie to
you Scott, I am attracted to him." She felt him stiffen.
"There is something about him that is very intriguing. Maybe the
mystery. And he's totally open mentally. That's very appealing to a
telepath. We're used to people displaying some degree of
closedmindedness to avoid being read....and then there's you. I don't
think I could get into that disciplined mind of yours with a jackhammer,
and it's frustrating sometimes that the man I love keeps me shut out.
But that's all it is, Scott. Frustration."

He was finally relaxing, but whether it
was due to fatigue, or belief in her words, she didn't know. "You
only need to trust me, Scott. And yes, I am attracted to Logan, but I
love you. That will never change. I swear to you that I will not let my
attraction for Logan come between the bond we share. Our love means too
much to me. We've been together too long, been through too much together
to throw it away because of jealousy over him."

During her last sentence, she had
reached down and taken his hand, and now traced the ridges and valleys
on the back, then bringing it to her lips, kissed him softly. He reached
the other hand up, tentatively stroking the side of her face. He shook
his head, a pained look in his eyes, a look of guilt and remorse. She
couldn't remember ever seeing him cry, but at the moment, he looked like
he was close to it.

"Is it really that bad that I'm so
closed minded?" he asked, embarrassed.

"Sometimes," she answered
softly, "I know you love me Scott, but you don't say it enough, and
you control your body language so well, I can't read it in your posture
either. Sometimes I'll take your hand and you'll stiffen up, like you're
embarrassed for anyone to see us together. And then when you mentally
shut me out also, sometimes it...well....sometimes I question if the
feelings are there." He extricated her hand from his and laid it
beside his head. "They are. See for yourself."

She pulled back. "You hate the
link."

"Yes, but I hate the thought of you
wondering if I love you even more." She nodded, reaching up to his
forehead. She reached out, feeling the walls within his mind. But as she
waited, the walls began to weaken, developing small holes that she could
look through, doors that he allowed her to open. She felt pain and
weakness and rejection and duty and strength and guilt and fear and a
million other things, but deep in the recesses, true to his word, she
did feel the love, deeper and richer and stronger than she would have
thought possible. But also, intertwined with the love was insecurity and
fear of loss and hesitancy to get too close.

She pulled back, afraid she had violated
what he wanted to keep private. "Scott?"

"Hmmm?" The warmth of her
touch had relaxed him to the point where he was drifting off. "I
understand now. You can't imagine life without me. I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Making you doubt. Here, let me
show you." She reached her hand up and touched his forehead again,
this time linking the opposite way. Not everyone knew it, but telepaths
could not only read someone else's thoughts, but also could send their
own thoughts to someone else. She saw Scott's face light up in a rare
smile as he received the full impact of her love. Never would he have
imagined the depth of her love for him. He had often wondered if the
only reason she appeared to love him was out of gratitude and obligation
to him for the times he had saved her life on missions. But that was not
what he saw in her mind. There was no sense of obligation in her love,
only a deep feeling of satisfaction and happiness at what they had
shared, and like him, a fear of losing him and an unwillingness to be
without him.

"I had no idea, Jean. These are
real?"

She chuckled softy. "Remember when
I told you to never lie to me, that I could tell?" he nodded.
"Well, I also can't lie to you. Well, I can, but not in my
thoughts. There is no way for me to send you false feelings. That's how
I feel."

"I'm sorry." The look on his
face was contrite. "I shouldn't have doubted, it's just
that...I...well...I just..."

"Too many people that you've loved
have left you, you figure it's only a matter of time until I do."
she finished.

He looked down at his feet, unable to
meet her gaze. "Yeah, I guess." he mumbled.

She tucked a finger under his chin,
gently lifting his head, and gazing intensely into his eyes. He tried to
look away but was mesmerized by her deep green eyes, the almond shape,
the color like fine emeralds, the long lashes. His thoughts went back to
the first time he saw her. He had just received the first pair of
protective sunglasses and the world was a monochrome red. Even seeing
her as totally red, she was beautiful, but over the months as the optic
center of his brain adapted to seeing constant red, he was able to see
in true colors. He didn't understand exactly what had happened, but the
Professor explained that it was not unusual for the brain to adjust what
the eyes see to as close to normal as possible, and his brain had
adjusted to the red of both the glasses and his optic beams. The first
time he saw Jean's beautiful green eyes as the color they actually were,
he fell in love with her. It saddened him that she would never be able
to see his eyes. He used to have stunning deep brown eyes, the color of
fine chocolate. All the girls he had dated had said they could get
"lost" in his eyes. But now Jean couldn't look into his eyes
at all, couldn't see the love in them, or the pain, or the happiness.
Had he done the right thing in shutting her out mentally? Suddenly he
wondered. Why should he shut her out? She was his fiancee. What did he
have to hide from her? They had vowed to not keep secrets from each
other, and he was sure she had fulfilled her end of the deal. Maybe it
was time for him to reciprocate. She had always been totally open with
him, sharing her fears and insecurities as well as her victories. He
could at least do the same.

He took her face between his hands and
leaning in close, kissed her deeply. Her hands traveled up his back
until she was stroking his neck and hair. {{You need a
haircut, Scott.}} He nearly spoke out loud, but then
remembered his mental training. {{I know.}}

"Jean, what's wrong?" Tears
were running down her face.

"That's the first time you've ever
talked to me telepathically."

"Yeah, I guess, so?"

"So you can't shut me out when you
do that."

{{I don't want to shut you
out Jean, I've done that for too long.}} He wiped away a
tear from her smooth cheek, allowing his hand to linger, stroking the
line of her jaw, her ear, her hairline, pulling her auburn hair gently
through his fingers. She closed her eyes, enjoying the pleasure of a
rare intimate caress from her fiancÚ. Of course he kissed her when they
made love, but he almost never stroked her just for the sake of touching
her. He continued, stroking her shoulders, her arms, drawing his hands
down her back, and pulling her closer to him, his mouth at hers. She
reached out with her mind and linked with him, tentatively, expecting to
feel the resistance, but for once, he didn't pull back, didn't hide,
didn't block her out. She explored his mind, expecting to find some
barriers, but they were gone. For the first time, he was allowing her to
discover with no hesitancy, no fear, anything she wished. He was still
kissing her, still stroking her back and shoulders, but she barely felt
the physical. The mental was too remarkable, the openness too
intoxicating. She traveled down corridor after corridor expecting to
find a door locked, a wall slammed in her face, but encountered no
resistance. She smiled in understanding and love, gently pulling back
from his mind.

She had learned more about him in the
few seconds of the mind link than in the previous years she had known
him. With a flash of insight, she understood the deep sense of
obligation he felt to the professor; the willingness to subjugate his
own personal feelings and desires for the integrity of the team, the
good of the school, the dedication to the professor and his dream.
Xavier had rescued him from a lifetime of being a freak, a sideshow act,
and Scott felt that he could never repay everything that the professor
had done for him; everything that had been given to him. The respect,
the understanding, the love, but more than anything, the ability to
control his dangerous powers so that others no longer had to fear him,
and more importantly, he didn't have to fear what he would do to others.
She saw the fear he had felt when his powers first manifested
themselves, the disappointment and anger in his father when his
"perfect son" became a freak. Scott's father had been a
perfectionist, wanting everything for his son that he couldn't have
himself. He pushed Scott to higher and higher levels of performance,
ignoring his protests. Jean saw the resentment Scott had felt for his
father when he had severely twisted his ankle stepping off a curb and
his father had insisted that he ignore the pain and perform in the swim
meet anyway, and then when he placed fourth, the angry slap he had
received from his father.

But the rejection after his powers came
was even worse. Scott didn't know if his mother was also embarrassed of
him, but she seldom talked to him either, leaving him to sit in darkness
in his bedroom for days on end, his world an endless nightmare of laying
in bed listening to the radio and little else. Jean saw his struggle to
survive in his own house, the nights sneaking down the stairs when his
parents were asleep and attempting to blindly find some food to get him
through the next day. He hadn't been invited to meals since he came into
his powers, and was left to blindly fend for himself. In an instant,
everything that he loved to do was impossible. Reading Sci-Fi novels,
working on his dirtbike, playing video games, going out with friends,
building ship models, all gone. Wiped away in a flash of red. Time after
time he attempted to make overtures to his parents, but was rebuffed in
a climate of fear and disappointment. Finally, he could take no more,
and ran away. When the Professor found him, he had been living on the
streets for 2 months, barely managing to survive on charity by wearing
dark sunglasses over his perpetually closed eyes, posing as a blind
beggar. Jean was shocked. She had known there was some deep pain
somewhere in his past, but he had always refused to talk about any of
it. Now she understood why, and could hardly fault him for not wanting
to remember such painful memories.

She pulled away slightly as he reached
under her blouse and cupped one firm breast in his hand. "Not here,
Scott. One of the kids might come in. The bedroom."

He nodded, trailing his hand around her
waist. She leaned her head on his shoulder and together they returned to
the bedroom. He had thought he was tired, but considering his fatigue,
he performed admirably. They fell asleep afterward, him on his back, his
arm around her, her head on his chest, fingers stroking his stomach,
keeping the mind link active so when he slept she could soothe the
unending nightmares. She could feel his love, deeper and stronger than
ever before, and sent a silent prayer that the conflict over Logan was
finally resolved. She fell asleep listening to his deep slow
breathing...